The Half-Blood Exchange
by Lyricalyrics
Summary: Quinn never asked to switch places with the weird British guy. But Hecate decided that she needed some entertainment in her immortal life, so that's exactly what she did- despite their complaints. Quinn never asked to lead a war against You-Know-Who, either. And Harry DEFINITELY didn't ask to be shipped on the Argo 2. But that's exactly what he did. Rated T for mild cussing.
1. Chapter 1

Usually, when Quinn Jackson switched places with people, they were blonde, tanned, frustratingly perfect, and called _Jason. _

The British boy couldn't have been any more different.

For one, he looked _nothing _like Jason at all- actually, he looked like a male Quinn Jackson, except for the fact his eyes were greener then hers, without the tiny blue flakes, he was much paler then her, and he had round glasses resting upon his nose.

Secondly, it was a dream- but not just _any _dream. It was a demigod dream, which meant that it'd show the supposed future deaths of the ones Quinn cared about most, or simply a quarrel between the gods' fights. Usually, they couldn't see Quinn- but this guy looked just as confused as she was, and his bright green eyes were bewildered as they met her own. She was pretty scared, too- but not for the same reasons he was. There was a storm brewing up in the sky- so violently wild that it reminded her of the weather when the gods accused her of stealing the lightning bolt.

"WHO ARE YOU?!" The boy yelled over the weather, just as Quinn shouted, "WHERE ARE WE?!"

They stared at each other. Then, they cautiously began to walk over to one another.

"My name's Quinn Jackson- man, I'm so confused. Where _are _we?" Quinn said distractedly, looking around with wild eyes. They were near some sort of cottage, where a beautiful red-haired lady and a handsome, black-haired man were holding an infant version of Male Quinn inside of the house.

"I- I think we're in Godric's Hollow!" The boy exclaimed. For the first time, Quinn noted that he had an accent- a British accent.

"What in the name of Hades is Godric's Hollow?" Quinn asked. The boy stared at her oddly.

"You- you're a muggle?" Quinn didn't even _know _what a muggle was. She decided to ignore the comment.

"Look, I don't know who you are, or where I am, but I'm telling you right now- you should try to waken yourself before it's too late."

As if on cue, lightning sapped the grass in-between the two, and Quinn and the Male Quinn stared as a woman appeared where the burning hole of the charred grass should have been. She had deadly pale skin, long, golden hair tied back Ancient-Greek style, and a long white _chiton _that shimmered, like liquid being shook in its container. She was carrying two old-fashioned Greek torches in each hand, and a polecat and a Black Labrador retriever stood next to her.

Quinn suppressed a groan and knelt. Even though she wasn't a big fan of Hecate, she wasn't stupid enough not to show respect for the goddess. See, the gods were kind of, well, _egotistical, _and to them, not showing respect upon their arrivals was a huge smash down to their large egotistical selves. Quinn gave Male Quinn a looked that said, _kneel or die, _and uneasily he copied her.

"Lady Hecate," Quinn muttered. Hecate stared, a serene smile on her lips, at Quinn's face.

"Rise, Quinn, rise, Harry." She commanded, and so they did.

"Lady Hecate, why have you summoned us here?" Quinn asked, her tone muddled with confusion. Hecate touched her hand.

"Purely for entertainment, my dear." Quinn didn't like the smile on her face. Hecate's eyes glinted as the storm up above raged on.

"What do you mean, _entertainment?" _The boy finally piped up. Hecate let out a little laugh.

"Ah, Harry Potter, how big you've grown! You are so young, and so clueless…" She sighed. "Truth be told, Miss Jackson, you might say that the Olympians grew _bored _of waiting for you and Rome to unleash war with each other. We've decided we'd take matters into our own hands- you two are going to switch places-" At Quinn's furious look, she added, "and _no, _I'm _not _going to give you amnesia like that foolhardy queen back on Olympus had. In about two minutes, I will send you two to Camp Half-Blood and Hogwarts, and-"

"Hogwarts? What in the name of the Underworld is Hogwarts? A pig's skin disease, or what?" Quinn snapped rudely, tired of being the gods' plaything. She just wanted to get everything over with already.

"It is a magic school in England, discovered by the followers, Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin. You'll need a wand, of course, and some robes, too- I'll go tell Dumbledore I'll bring in a custom-made wand, it may just take a few minutes-" She disappeared.

Harry turned to Quinn.

"Who was that? What's Camp Half-Blood? What does she mean, the _other gods?_" His tone was pure suspicion. Quinn folded her arms and stared at the grass without talking. Finally, she said, "Camp Half-Blood is my home. I mean, it's a home for demigods." At his questioning look, she sighed and began to explain.

"You know the myths about Poseidon, and Zeus, and Athena?" She asked. He nodded, still looking confused. "Well, they're real. Like, all of them. My dad's Poseidon."

Harry looked slightly surprised, but didn't question the weirdness of it.

"Oh." He said softly. Quinn laughed, gently punching him on the shoulder, and smiled sympathetically. "I know, right?"

But he didn't answer- because at that second, right when they were having an OH-MY-FREAKING-GODS-THIS-IS-SO-COOL-AND-WEIRD-AT-T HE-SAME-TIME moment, Hecate decided to take them on their way.

Quinn fell through the wall.

It wasn't a very pleasant experience- if you'd call being sent to a creepy magic school by a goddess that may or may not hate your guts via wall-falling. She landed on her feet. Her feet did _not _like that- she wobbled, and fell face-first onto the floor.

"Ow," She said. Some people screamed.

"Calm down, calm down!" An ancient, soft-yet-strong voice ordered. They quieted down, although some people whimpered. Quinn heard footsteps nearing her- and then a strong, withered hand on her forearm pulled her up.

"Thanks, dude, I owe you-" She stopped when she saw his face.

It was a kind, old face- he could've been a kindly old man at the retiring home, if not for his long white hair and beard, his spangled blue robes, and his sparkly blue eyes. Oh, not to mention that weird pointed hat on top of his head.

"Hecate wasn't kidding, was she?" Quinn asked, her voice awed as she took in her surroundings. They were in some sort of large hall, with four long tables in the center, occupied by hundreds of students with black robes. In the front was another table- but this one was occupied by adults, staring sternly at Quinn's face. Quinn shivered.

She turned back to the old man and, taking out Riptide, slowly backed away while uncapping the pen. It turned into a shimmering bronze sword with a double-edged blade, a leather-wrapped grip and a flat hilt riveted with gold studs. The whole of the hall let out a gasp.

"Now, I want you to tell me who you are, what your motive is for helping the gods, and _why _they are doing this to me. Wait- don't answer that last one- they hate my guts." She turned away from him and stared at the ceiling, which held the exact same appearance as a midnight sky, studded with stars.

"CURSE YOU, HECATE!" She yelled. The midnight sky quickly changed from peaceful to a full-fledged storm in a matter of seconds. She threw down Riptide in frustration.

The old man's face turned to slightly surprised to no emotion at all.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lightning Thief," He smiled, bowing down respectfully. Quinn stared at him, before screaming her head off.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as Quinn was done screaming bloody murder, she shut her eyes tight and tried to communicate with Blackjack through horse-to-Sea-God's-daughter telepathic words.

_Hey, Blackjack, you there?_

A neigh echoed in her brain, then a horsey laugh.

_Yo, boss!_

_I told you not to call me boss, Blackjack._

_Whatever floats your boat, boss. _

_Listen, Blackjack, I need you to do a HUGE favor for me. See, I'm kind of stuck in England in this crazy mental boarding school for magic, and I kind of need your help to escape, so…_

_Listen, boss, you know I'm up for anything, but England? _ _Isn't England infested with stuck-up jerks who look like they have sticks up their butts and drink tea 24/7?_

_Blackjack…!_

_Okay, okay, boss! I'm coming right now, but I'm warning you: When we get back home, you're giving me three extra sugar cubes every night._

Quinn laughed out loud, her eyes still shut.

_Sure, Blackjack. _

She opened her eyes again.

"Blackjack's coming," She told a mystified Dumbledore. "He's my Pegasus. I'm the daughter of Poseidon, so he and I are indirectly related. That means we can also communicate telepathically."

Dumbledore's sparkly blue eyes widened. Then, he said, "Why has a demigod such as yourself come to our humble school?"

Quinn frowned.

"Yeah… how's a mortal like yourself know about demigods?"

"Well, Miss Jackson, your mentor Chiron and I are very good friends." He chuckled fondly, and addressed his bewildered students and staff members for the first time.

"This young lady, as some of you had already guessed, is none other than Poseidon's daughter, more commonly known as the Lightning Thief."

All of the students began to blabber at once.

"She's a demigod! A real life demigod!"

"She's Poseidon's daughter! She's the Sea God's daughter!"

"The Lightning Thief- wow, she's been in the Daily Prophet _and _the Quibbler for months!"

"What in the name of Zeus is the Daily Prophet?" Quinn asked Dumbledore. He ignored her and raised a palm, as if to say, _STOP! _They all quieted down, but glances were shot at Quinn. She self-consciously looked down at her outfit: A turquoise jacket over her plain button-down reading, _Thing Two. _A pair of shorts revealed her skinny legs, and her long socks under her white tennis shoes almost reached her knees. She glared at the weird Brit kids' pristine black robes and pulled a short strand of black hair that escaped from her Ancient-Greek styled ponytail back into place.

"Yes, yes, I know it is very exciting to be in the midst of such a form," His eyes twinkled as he took in Quinn's awkward position, "but we all must act civilized as we host our guest."  
Quinn couldn't take it anymore; she spoke up.

"Whoa, dude, slow down!" She said hurriedly. "I'm not staying here! Camp Half-Blood needs me! Gaea's commanding war, for the gods' sakes! Do you really think I'm going to learn magic when the Prophecy of Seven is at stake!? No, sir! Not today!"

The silence was so thick, Quinn could cut it with a butter knife.

"Miss Jackson…" began a slow, brooding voice from up at the staff table. A man, with sallow white skin and a scowl so fierce he'd bring Clarisse to shame, seemed to have spoken. Quinn screamed frustratingly and threw Riptide across the hall. Luckily, he ducked just in time, so it hit the wall behind him. Dumbledore turned to stare sternly at Quinn disapprovingly.

"Now, Miss Quinn, we do _NOT _try to decapitate our future professors!" He told her. Quinn let out a tiny sob.

"You- you- you dummy, I told you I'm not staying…" She sobbed and threw her arms around Dumbledore's frail shoulders. He awkwardly patted her back.

"There, there…"

"What about Harry-'Otter-or-other? What about him, what about Camp Half-Blood, what about the Earth Goddess and Leo Valdez and Hazel Coach Hedge and Jason Grace and Frank and Piper and Annabeth? What about them?"

"Harry's been missing?" Someone called out in a shrill voice. Quinn whipped around to face a fluffy-haired girl with stern brown eyes and flushed pink cheeks. Quinn glared at her.

"Yup, I met the guy during my dream. Eugh. Demigod dreams suck rotten horse eggs. And speaking of horses, _where _in Hades is Blackjack?!"

"Forgive me, Miss Jackson, I've put enchantments around the school. It appears to be your horse is now struggling to get into Hogwarts, and he's complaining about how his boss better pay him 50 sugar cubes for his rough journey or he shall go and- how does he say it- rip your head off bits to bits," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling.

"You speak Horse?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow. Dumbledore smiled secretively and brandished a wand from his robes. He muttered something indistinct, and instantly a horsey scream echoed around in Quinn's ears as Blackjack came flying in through the Great Hall, a wild look in his eyes. _Oohs _and _ahhhs _echoed around the Great Hall.

_Yo, boss! I've just flew over the forest they have here- nasty stuff, man! _He neighed as he trotted close to Quinn. Several people sighed over the beautiful Pegasus. Quinn just smiled.

_Cool, did they have any nymphs?_

_Nope, only giant tarantulas and centaurs who were screaming that the end of the world was begun. _

"C'mon, Blackjack, take us home." Quinn started to get on her horse, when a stern-sounding voice from the head table piped up.

"It appears that a voice inside my head proclaiming itself a goddess has just told me that it has blocked off all exits outside the school and that you should be a good girl and give the gods entertainment," The voice said, and Quinn looked up to see a stern, middle-aged woman with gray hair tight in a bun standing up at the head table, looking a bit sick.

"Well, that settles things!" Dumbledore smiled cheerfully. Blackjack neighed.

_Man, this guy is way too optimistic for my taste. Want me to trample him, boss?_

_Actually, yeah, but we'll be outnumbered if we try to kill the guy. C'mon, let's just wait and see if my dad'll rescue us._

"Well, if I'm gonna be a student here, I guess it wouldn't be so bad to get well-acquainted with you. Um, who _are _you?"

"I'm Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster here at Hogwarts. It is a privilege to teach you, although I am not quite sure where Harry is right now, and I am severely worried over his well-being."  
"Don't worry, he's at Camp Half-Blood. He's safe for now… _if _Mr. D accepts him. The overgrown brat is kind of like Headmaster, only he's a lot ruder and disgusting. And Greek."

"So he'll be safe at your school?" a voice yelled out next to the fluffy-haired girl, and a boy with orangey red hair and freckles came into view. His face was anxiously waiting for her response.

"If Mr. D accepts him, which he might not. Then we're _really _screwed at that point." Quinn shrugged and dismounted her horse. He nickered at her.

"So, Dumble-Bumble, where'm I supposed to sit, huh?" She asked, looking around wildly. A squeaky voice echoed from the head table.

"You need to get Sorted into one of the houses, Miss Jackson, in order to become a proper Hogwarts student!"

Murmurs of agreement passed throughout the Head Table. Quinn scowled.

"_Sorted, _huh? Sort've like being claimed all over again."

**Hey, guys! I'm sorry for being such a sucky updater, but I hoped you like this chapter!**

**Love, hugs, and all that jazz,**

**Lyricalyrics**


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